


Sweet Dreams

by semperama



Series: Tumblr Ficlets - Pinto [9]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Backrubs, Drunkenness, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 12:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11440656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperama/pseuds/semperama
Summary: Chris gives Zach a piggyback ride, then Zach gives Chris a backrub.





	Sweet Dreams

“Okay, okay, get off me,” Chris pants when they get to the door. “You’re fucking heavy, dude.”

“Nuh-uh.” Zach clings to Chris even harder, wrapping his legs tighter around his middle. “You promised to take me all the way to bed. This isn’t the bed.”

Chris makes a frustrated noise and does a clumsy little shimmy-hop to hike Zach higher on his back. “I need my hands to open the—fuck—to open the door, and…oww, Zach, seriously.”

“Come on, Mr. Whiny Pants. We’re almost there.”

Somehow, in a truly impressive show of coordination considering the sheer volume of alcohol they both have consumed, Chris manages to fish his key-card out of his pocket and open the door without dropping Zach. The door clips Zach’s shoulder on the way through, but he’s too busy giggling with delight to care. Chris staggers over to the bed and then falls back onto it, pinning Zach under him.

“Oh God, don’t,” Zach gasps, caught between laughing and groaning. “You’re going to make me puke on you.”

That gets Chris off of him pretty quick, which actually might have been a bad idea on Zach’s end. He misses the warmth of Chris’s body right away, misses the way the muscles in his back shifted under his suit jacket. Robbed of his reason for giddiness, he spreads his arms and legs out on the bed like a starfish and shuts his eyes, breathing deeply like that might sober him up.

“Best piggy back ride of my life,” he sighs.

“Okay, I know you’re drunk as a skunk if you’re deigning to compliment me,” Chris says. Zach opens his eyes in time to see Chris stretch his arms way above his head and then twist side to side and press his hands into the small of his own back. “Jesus, I think you broke me. You definitely must be off your Trek diet.”

“Hey, I am 150 percent muscle. It’s heavier than fat, you know,” Zach says, propping himself up on his elbows so he can see Chris better.

Chris rolls his eyes at him. “You definitely aren’t 150 percent mathematician. Or…anatomist? Is that a thing?”

Zach wrinkles his nose. “Hell if I know.”

Chris turns away from him and shrugs out of his jacket, then flings it on a chair by the window. His dress shirt creases around his shoulder blades as he goes to work on his tie, and Zach can’t even pretend his mouth isn’t watering. It’s one of those sights he wishes he could burn into his brain, so he can play it on repeat in his mind when he’s having a bad day. Or really, if he gets a wish, he wishes he could strip that shirt off Chris and trace his scapulae with his tongue. Or his teeth.

“Fuck, man, I really do think you broke me,” Chris whines. He yanks his tie out of his collar and turns around again, grimacing as he flicks open the top couple buttons of his shirt. “My back is killing me.”

“That’s probably more the fault of the concrete floor at that travesty of a club,” Zach says. “And the fact that you’re getting too old for this.”

“I’m getting too old for this?” Chris raises an eyebrow, then stalks over and flops on the bed next to Zach, punching him half-heartedly on the shoulder on the way down. “Says the man who demanded a piggyback ride so he didn't have to walk from the elevator to the room.”

“Oh my God. You’re a broken record.” Zach looks up at the ceiling and curls his lips over his teeth, considering. The good news is, he’s just drunk enough to justify asking, “What do you want, Pine? Want me to rub your back for you?”

“Uhh, yeah, actually. That sounds fantastic.”

Then, Chris flips over, gets into his hands and knees and crawls up to the pillows. Zach twists around so fast he might have just wrenched something in his own back, but it’s worth it for the glimpse of the way those dress pants tighten over the curves of Chris’s ass before he flops down on his stomach, curling his arms over his head.

“‘M ready,” he slurs, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Come get me.”

 _Don’t fucking say things like that to me_ , Zach thinks, but he bites his tongue. If he makes this weird, Chris might change his mind. Instead, he slips out of his own jacket, then unbuttons and rolls up his sleeves. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it right. He’s going to give Chris the best damn back rub he’s even had in his life. He’s going to make him wish Zach would never stop touching him, make him beg for more.

Chris lifts his head in surprise when Zach swings a leg over his body, bracketing Chris’s hips with his knees. Zach doesn’t let his weight rest on Chris, but it’s still obviously a more intimate position than Chris was expecting.

“You want me to do this right or not?” Zach asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Whatever, dude,” Chris says, dropping his head back to the pillow. “Just don’t think you’re getting any at the end of this. I don’t put out until the third back rub.”

“No wonder you go through women like tissues,” Zach quips, then sets the heels of his hands to either side of Chris’s spine and presses hard, so any comeback he might have had gets preempted by the air rushing out of his lungs.

“Fuuuuck,” Chris groans, drawing the word out and overemphasizing the hard k sound on the end. Zach closes his eyes for a moment and tries to breathe through the sudden southward rush of blood. He really hopes he doesn’t regret this.

He has no idea how long it goes on for, but it becomes like meditation after a while, his mind mercifully blank as his thumbs map the ridges of Chris’s spine and dimensions of his shoulder blades. Even through the fabric of his dress shirt, Chris’s body feels as good as it looks. Zach runs his palms from his shoulders to the small of his back several times just to feel the way he narrows at the waist. He shifts down to dig his fingers in just above the waistband of Chris’s trousers and tries not to think about what it would be like to shift another couple inches south. The way it feels to touch Chris must be etched into his palms for all eternity. He thinks he might wake up tomorrow and still be able to feel it, no matter what happens tonight.

At first, Chris makes it difficult by moaning obscenely every time Zach finds a sore spot. It only makes Zach press harder, trying to coax out more of the same. Eventually, as the knots start to fade away, the pornographic noises are fewer and farther between too, but the sound of Chris’s heavy breathing is not much better. By the time Zach’s hands are too tired to continue, he’s hard enough that if Chris flips over, it’ll be no secret. He braces for the reaction as he dismounts and flops down on his side, a little closer to Chris than he probably should be.

“I’ll take my thank you now,” he says. But he’s met with silence. Chris is still breathing deep, maybe a little too deep, but he’s not answering. Frowning, Zach pushes himself up onto his knees and leans over Chris so he can see his face, which is turned away on the pillow. His mouth is slack, his eyelashes casting shadows on the skin under his eyes. He’s asleep.

He’s _asleep_ , and Zach wants so badly to feel indignant about it. His erection is straining at the fabric of his pants, begging for attention, and for a few moments there he actually entertained the idea that Chris would break his pattern of models and beauty queens long enough to help Zach out. But suddenly he doesn’t care about that. All he feels now is an overwhelming tenderness, a strange sort of gratitude that he gets to be here, thousands of miles from home, watching Chris sleep. He gets to be the one that put that expression of peace on Chris’s face.

Zach won’t wake him now, but he does need to touch him again. He runs his palm down the center of Chris’s back and, after a moment’s hesitation, leans over and presses his lips as lightly as he can to Chris’s temple.

“Sweet dreams,” he murmurs. Chris shifts and sighs softly but doesn’t wake.


End file.
